


Those Things Left Undone

by Laurielove



Category: Victoria (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Love, Resolution, Searching, ghost story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 10:20:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13144605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurielove/pseuds/Laurielove
Summary: Windsor Castle, Christmas 2017.When the visitors have gone and the castle falls silent, it is still not empty. The dark halls and corridors harbour the spirit of someone still searching for release, even after 170 years.A Vicbourne Christmas ghost story. Written for the Advent Calendar on the For the Love of VIcbourne Facebook group.





	Those Things Left Undone

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [To, что осталось не сделанным](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13170945) by [Laurielove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurielove/pseuds/Laurielove)



> I loved writing this so, so much, and hope you enjoy it. It's different to my usual stuff (you can guess what I mean) but, trust me, it's still achingly romantic and not without resolution, let's say. 
> 
> I'm posting this on Christmas Day and Christmas isn't complete without a ghost story. Snuggle down with some mulled wine and enjoy. Merry Christmas to you all. Love from Laurielove/Laurie Hart. 
> 
> xxx

_Windsor Castle, Present Day_

‘Ma’am … ma’am … Excuse me, madam, please don’t touch the exhibits. Many of these items belong in the Queen’s private collection. We ask you to respect that.’

Emma Ripley repeated herself as she had done hundreds of times a week for the last year. The woman who’d been prodding the tapestry glared but moved on.

Emma had started her job as Visitor Co-ordinator at Windsor Castle the previous January and couldn’t believe how quickly the year had passed. That said, she’d worked like stink. It was unheard of for a graduate to waltz out of university into one of the cushiest jobs going in the royal palaces – high security clearance, access to the castle whenever she wanted, a flat in the grounds. Emma had been determined to prove herself and had.

But now she was ready for the Christmas break. Windsor had been busier than ever and the hordes of tourists and school parties were exhausting her. There was under a week to go. As she followed the last lingering visitors out, Emma breathed a sigh of relief and pulled her lanyard from around her neck.

She reached for her walkie talkie. ‘All clear in the north wing, Tom. I’ll do the final rounds.’

‘Thanks, Em,’ the crackly voice came back. ‘It’s nearly the shortest day. Bloody dark around. Watch out for the ghosties and ghoulies.’

She chuckled down the line. ‘You can’t scare me, Tom, as much as you try.’

‘Oh, I could never scare you. But you know the place is riddled with them. You’ve felt it yourself.’

‘Yeah, well, if they don’t bother me, I’m not going to bother them. I’ll check back in when I’ve finished.’

‘You do that. Whooo oo!’

‘Piss off, Tom,’ she tutted with a smirk and cut him off.

Emma headed back through the castle, turning off lights as she went. Security was incredibly tight getting into the castle, with armed police and bag checks, but once you were in, it had always struck her how easy it was to get around. As she did her final checks, she always felt as if she was just going over her own house, albeit a massive, gilded one.

She passed a security guard heading the other way.

‘Alright, Miss Ripley?’ he asked jovially.

‘Yes, Fred, I’ll be heading off soon. Everyone out?’

‘Think so. The actors with the education team were in today but left a while ago.’

‘Yeah, I saw them around. Thanks, I’ll just check again. See you later.’

‘Bye then.’

She carried on deeper into the castle.

Emma laughed to herself at Tom’s teasing. He was right though; she didn’t doubt for a moment that the place was haunted to the hilt. She had felt it herself: cold chills which suddenly seemed to encroach, shadows moving before her, whispers along empty corridors.

A shiver ran through her now at the thought of it, but that was all. It didn’t scare her, if anything, she was disappointed she’d never seen more.

She approached a corridor of rooms which had been Queen Victoria’s private chambers, the sitting rooms where she’d dealt with dispatches and state business. This was Emma’s favourite place. Here, she could picture Victoria, not as the dour grey-haired matriarch, but as the young, vivacious monarch she knew her to be.

Emma turned the corner into the corridor and stopped.

A man stood before her studying some papers, his head down. They’d had a Victorian role play group in for the school parties and she’d been bumping into women in crinolines and men in frock coats all day. This must be one of the actors; he was dressed in a dark frock coat and waistcoat. A white cravat was ruffled at his neck.

‘Excuse me,’ she said, trying not to sound tetchy; she’d thought they’d all left.

The man didn’t look up. She approached closer, annoyed that he was ignoring her. He should have gone by now. ‘Excuse me, the castle’s closed. Could you hand in your pass and get going, please? It’s after six o’clock. I’m sure the rest of your group left ages ago. If you’re lost, I can take you to the exit.’

He turned to her at last and initially seemed as surprised to see her as she was to see him. But his face soon relaxed and he gave a half-smile. ‘Lost? I daresay we are all somewhat lost.’

She found herself staring. The man was astonishingly good-looking, so much so that for a moment she was robbed of breath. He had thick dark hair, greying at the temples and swept forward in a way that gave him a rakish air of elegance. His nose was straight and his mouth quixotic. But it was his eyes which held her spellbound. They were large and green and when he looked at her she felt as if she was the only woman on Earth. Her pulse quickened. Something wasn’t right, but at the same time, it was more right than ever before.

‘I … sorry … I …’ She fumbled and dropped her head, unsure why. She should be at her most officious with people lingering out of hours but found herself instead intensely curious. ‘Were you working here today?’

He frowned a little. ‘Working? Was I? I find I am not certain. In any case, I always preferred Buckingham, I must say. This place soon became associated with … the German.’

‘The German?’ she queried, not understanding.

‘Never mind. It is of no matter now.’

‘So you do this at Buckingham Palace too? The role play?’

‘Role play? I regret I don’t understand.’

‘Dressing up, playing characters. It’s part of the education programme across the royal palaces.’

His brows wrinkled slightly. ‘Education? Always caused a headache when trying to get bills through. Damned Peel, never made it easy, that man.’

She laughed. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘It would seem that makes two of us.’

He took a step closer and a shiver ran through her. This time it wasn’t due to his good looks. The air had grown suddenly cold. She stared up at him. His skin was clear and smooth, almost translucent. There was something other-worldly about him, and when he moved he seemed to leave a lingering shadow in the air, as if he were trailing a memory of himself behind, as if he were …

She drew in a gasp and took an instinctive step back. ‘Who are you?’

The things he’d said ran through Emma’s mind: Peel – the only Peel she knew of was Robert Peel, an old Prime Minister – education bills, working at Buckingham Palace. She stared at him and had the strangest sensation that he wasn’t entirely real. In fact, if she stared hard enough, she could almost see through him.

‘Who are you?’ she repeated, wondrous, a tingle of disbelieving realisation creeping through her.

He quirked an eyebrow. ‘Would you like Christian name, full title, profession? I can of course provide all if you wish.’

‘What would you like me to call you?’ she dared, wanting to hear it from him.

He turned and smirked, a slight, melancholy smile she thought.

‘Shall I tell you what she used to call me? I liked that, very much. No one else called me that, only her.’

‘What did she call you?’ she queried softly, her breath catching.

He looked beyond her, and a drifting expression caught his face, as if he were remembering something intensely precious from an age before. ‘She called me … Lord M.’

Emma sucked in a sudden breath but was unable to look away. Her eyes misted but she couldn’t blink the tears away. ‘I know who you are,’ she murmured, her heart beat pounding through her head. ‘You’re William Lamb. You’re Lord Melbourne.’

The man’s rueful smile only deepened. ‘Ah, those are names I haven’t heard for some time, but yes, I suppose I am.’

‘But …’

‘What?’

‘You’re …’

He looked straight into her. ‘Dead? Certainly, long, long since. I must confess, I rather wish I weren’t like this. It’s damnably tedious all this displacement. Why – if I must be consigned to eternal wandering – could it not have been Brocket Hall? Windsor is a terribly draughty place, I always found.’

‘But …’

‘I understand your confusion. I have had considerable time to get used to it, but I was the same at first. I don’t show myself to everyone, you know, although I am always present, observing. In fact, I can’t pick and choose who I appear to, it just happens from time to time. You haven’t told me your name, by the way. There must be a reason why you’re the one.’

‘The one?’

‘The one I’ve appeared to. I have no say in the matter. The last person was a young child during the big war. He’d recently lost his sister and I … I talked to him about losing my own children. It was a great comfort to us both.’

‘Then … why me?’

‘I don’t know yet. And you still haven’t told me your name.’

She laughed a little at the extraordinariness of the situation, but equally found herself accepting it. She took a hesitant step closer to him and smiled. ‘I’m Emma.’

His face softened further. ‘Emma? A charming name. I had a friend called Emma. A good friend. Very sage.’

‘Emma Portman?’

‘You’re a clever thing.’

‘I like history. I studied it.’

‘Oh? Where?’ He seemed genuinely interested. Already, she thought him an easy conversationalist. No wonder Victoria had liked him so much.

‘Cambridge.’

‘Which college?’

‘Trinity.’

‘Ah. The only one.’

‘You went there, didn’t you?’

‘Indeed.’

She dropped her head with a smile.

‘Was it ancient history you studied?’ he continued.

‘No, modern.’

‘And yet you know about me,’ he teased. His eyes sparked and she found herself falling into them again. He really was ridiculously attractive, especially for a ghost.

‘You don’t look that ancient to me, not at all.’

He smiled. ‘You flatter me, and, like all men, I’m susceptible to flattery.’

She brought a hand up to stifle her laughter.

‘Why do you laugh?’

‘I don’t know … what you said is familiar.’

‘Yes … perhaps it is,’ he thought back.

‘Perhaps you said it to the Queen.’

At this his smile faded and he turned away from her. ‘The Queen …’

‘You were a very good friend to her.’

‘And she to me … until …’

‘She got married.’

‘Indeed. As was always going to happen.’ He spoke with the faintest sigh. She could sense his pain even now.

‘I know how close you were when she first became Queen.’

He didn’t reply and there was the deepest sadness in his expression. ‘Close … yes … you could put it like that.’

Melbourne moved to sit on a bench along the wall. Emma sat beside him. Despite the near-translucency of him, she was sure that if she reached out she could touch him, but she daren’t.

‘Do you mind me asking … do you know why you’re still here? Why you’re not …?’

He looked around him. ‘Why I can’t escape these halls? No, I am not certain.’

‘If souls are held in a place, if they haven’t moved on, so to speak, it’s usually to do with some sort of unfinished business, something which has never been resolved.’

‘Ah, but in my life that could mean any number of things.’

‘But you’re here at Windsor, not Brocket Hall, not in London, but _here_. That must be significant.’

‘Yes … and like I said, I was never overly fond of the place.’

It hit her suddenly and she turned to him with wide eyes. ‘Of course!’

‘Of course what?’

‘That must be it – the reason why you’re here, why you can’t leave! Don’t you see?’

‘Not entirely, but I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.’

‘It’s her.’

He smiled wryly and turned away.

‘Lord Melbourne, your unfinished business is with her, with Victoria.’

‘Please … that ship has long since sailed.’ He rubbed a hand wearily over his brow.

‘But … it has to be, why else would you be in Windsor? This is the place you associate with her, and you can’t deny you had happy times with her here, before …’ Her voice trailed off.

‘The German?’ he finished for her with a sardonic bite.

‘Exactly.’

‘You are right … they were the happiest times. We used to ride out for hours on end, just she and I, far away from anyone else, gossiping, telling ridiculous stories. She would laugh and laugh and her eyes would shine as bright as the stars.’

His adoration, even after all this time, was so palpable it made her ache. ‘Lord Melbourne …’ she said tenderly.

But he inhaled sharply and sat up straight and dismissively with his hands on his knees. ‘But what is the point of dragging this up now? It was a very long time ago, nearly two centuries!’

‘Because … whatever it was between you has not been resolved.’

‘What could she and I possibly have that was unresolved?’

‘Don’t you see … you never told her.’ She turned to him and held his eyes. ‘You never showed her.’

‘Showed her what?’ he murmured, although she suspected he knew.

‘Your love.’

He closed his eyes and turned away from her. ‘Don’t do this. I have spent long, long hours both in life and death trying to overcome that.’

‘But you haven’t overcome it, and that’s why you’re still here. If you don’t do something about it, you’ll never rest.’

He stood up, tension gripping him. ‘Rest? Perhaps I don’t want to rest. I have always been used to it … I never asked for true happiness.’

‘No, but you deserved it.’

He looked down at her in confusion. ‘Why are you being so nice to me?’

‘Because I know you. I’ve read about you, I’ve been fascinated by you. I know what a good man you were.’

‘Were …’ he murmured.

She stood too and took a step towards him. ‘Lord Melbourne … William … what if she were here too?’

‘She is not.’

‘But … if she could be …’

‘No. It cannot be. She moved on, as she should have. And I wish her all the happiness she could ever wish.’

She was undeterred. ‘But what if … we could bring her back?’

He smiled that sad smile again. ‘That is too much to wish for. It is impossible. For she, unlike me, is resting easy. She had everything she wished – a husband, children, a long, extraordinary fulfilling life.’

‘William …’

‘You call me that very freely,’ he smirked.

‘I’m sorry, Lord Melbourne.’

‘No, I do not mind.’

‘There must be others here. What if she’s one of them? Perhaps not always, but there must be a way.’

‘Do not trouble yourself for my sake,’ he said, his shoulders slumped, resigned.

But Emma was not resigned. She paced up and down, pulling her hands through her hair. ‘There must be a way,’ she kept repeating to herself. Suddenly, she spun back to him and pointed in realisation. ‘We need something – an object, something which held a special significance to you both.’

He shrugged. ‘I am sure such things are long since lost.’

‘But try to think! Think of something which had a special meaning for you both.’

‘She liked … orchids.’ His eyes glazed as he thought back.

‘It needs to be something which endured.’

‘There was nothing.’

‘Please, think, William.’ She marched across and turned pleading eyes to him. ‘I am not going to give up on you even if you are!’

He looked off beyond her, as he dredged up a memory long since buried. ‘I … once … for her birthday ...’

‘What?’

‘No … it meant nothing to her.’

‘I’m sure that’s not true.’

‘I gave her … a telescope … so she would look beyond.’

‘A telescope?’

‘Yes … at the time she was angry with me. I had stayed away from her birthday celebrations. She didn’t like me staying away.’

‘You see … you see how much she adored you?’

He allowed himself a half smile. ‘Oh yes, she did. She doted on me. Mrs Melbourne, they called her, and, as silly as it was, and as dangerous, I must confess … I rather liked that. But then … he arrived and … she moved on, she forgot, which is right. It’s how it should be.’

‘But she didn’t forget. A woman never forgets. We might focus our emotions elsewhere due to circumstance, but those feelings endure, especially those first intoxicating infatuations. They last. Believe me, I know.’

He gave a slight pouting smile again. ‘In some way … perhaps.’

‘Yes, William, they did, I’m sure of it. That’s what’s missing. You never told each other. You never showed each other. And that’s what you have to do.’

‘You make it sound so easy.’

‘Well, look at you for God’s sake! You’re here, at least! We’re halfway there. I need to find that telescope.’

He laughed, a slight, wry chuckle. ‘That will be impossible. It could be anywhere.’

‘I don’t care, I’ll find it.’ She turned back to him. ‘William, I’ll find it and be back. It may take a few days, longer, I don’t know, but wait for me.’ With a beaming smile, she rushed off down the corridor. ‘Don’t go anywhere!’

‘Oh … I think I can safely assure you of that.’

\--xoOox--

Google seemed as good a place to start as any. She knew it was going to be too good to be true to type in ‘Queen Victoria telescope’ and find it on page one, but when the searches through the Osborne House museum and the catalogues of the Royal Collections came back with nothing, she grew a little dejected. She searched and searched with every spare moment she had over the next few days, until at last she came across an old newspaper article from the Tring Gazette.

Her gaze zoomed in on the relevant text: ‘ _Among the articles on display is a small hand telescope dating from around 1830 said to have once belonged to Queen Victoria and passed down to her daughter, Alice._ ’

Emma froze. A telescope from the 1830s which had belonged to Victoria. She read the article from the beginning. It was a story about the Long Marston Museum which had been refurbished. A tiny museum in a small village in Hertfordshire, it only housed a few objects, and the telescope was one of the best.

Emma Googled the museum itself. ‘Open March – October 10am-5pm Tues-Sat’. Shit. It wasn’t even open at this time of year. But scouring the web page she found an emergency out-of-hours number. She dialled it immediately.

After only a few rings a man’s voice at the other end answered. ‘Hello?’

‘Oh, hi. Is that the Long Marston Museum?’

‘No, but it’s the caretaker.’

‘Hello, my name’s Emma Ripley, I’m employed at Windsor Castle and I’m researching into Victorian artefacts. I’m very interested in a particular object in your museum, a telescope.’

‘Museum’s closed till March.’

‘I realise that and I’m really sorry to trouble you out of season, but I really need to see this object for my research which is due next month and … I was wondering if you’d open the museum for me to have a look at it.’

There was a long sigh down the other end. ‘It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow. Haven’t you got anything better to do?’

‘I know, bit sad really, but this is essential research. Please … you’d be doing me a huge favour.’

‘I bloody well would!’ He sighed again. ‘Look … I can open for a few minutes tomorrow at 10 o’clock, no sooner, no later. You’d better be there, mind.’

Emma struggled not to emit an audible, ‘Yes!’ down the line. ‘Of course. Thank you so much, Mr …?’

‘Cumberland.’

‘Thank you, Mr Cumberland, I can’t tell you how much good you’re doing.’

‘What’s so special about that old telescope anyway?’

‘I’m not sure, but I hope to find out.’

\--xoOox--

She drove out to the village early the next day. It was frosty and the fields were laced with a cold white mist. The museum was housed in an old lock keeper’s cottage, not large, but as she drove up and got out it looked inviting enough.

Emma rubbed her hands together against the cold and peered in through the windows.

‘You won’t get in that way,’ said a voice behind her. She turned to find a man with sharp eyes bundled up in a woollen coat with a flat cap pulled down over his head. He came forward and extended a hand. ‘Jim Cumberland. I’m supposing you’re Emma?’

‘Yes, hello, Jim. Thanks so much for doing this.’

‘Must be pretty important for you to be coming out here on Christmas Eve.’

‘Yes, it’s vital really to my … work.’

He unlocked the door and held his hand out before him. ‘After you.’

The museum was chilly and dark inside but once Jim turned the lights on, it took on a cosy, welcoming feel. He led her through into a small room housing various cabinets with items on display.

‘So … this telescope of yours …’ He stepped ahead of her and stopped in front of a glass case in which were several objects: an old globe, a pair of silver scissors, an open diary written in old fading script, and there … she stared, her mouth breaking into an immediate smile … a bronze telescope.

It was not large and had tarnished over the years, but as soon as Emma saw it it seemed to call to her. She leant in and stared.

‘What can you tell me about it?’

Jim breathed in. ‘That one? Well … they say it was given by Princess Alice to the daughter of an equerry who lived around here. She passed it down through the family and then in the 1980s the family gave it to the museum.’

‘How wonderful … do you know how Princess Alice got it?’

‘Her mother gave it to her.’

‘Queen Victoria.’

‘Exactly.’

‘And … how did Victoria get it?’

‘Rumour has it that it was a birthday present when she first became Queen.’

‘From whom?’

‘Nobody’s sure, but some say it was from her first Prime Minister, the second Viscount Melbourne.’

Emma smiled and leaned in to look closer. ‘Do you know? … I think you’re absolutely right.’

‘Would you like to hold it?’

Emma turned to him and smiled. ‘Can I? I’d love to.’

Jim took out a little key with which he opened the cabinet.

‘Do I need to wear gloves or something?’

‘Nah, we’re not that precious here. These things barely get handled, so … I think it’ll survive.’

He took out the telescope. She held out her hands and he placed it into them.

It was strange, it wasn’t as cold as she’d anticipated. ‘It’s warm,’ she observed.

Emma held it tight. Perhaps it wasn’t warmth, perhaps it was more a tingle.

Just then the stillness was penetrated by a loud, whining alarm.

‘Oh, bugger!’ muttered Jim. ‘Didn’t deactivate it properly. Hang on a minute.’

And he paced off to a room at the back.

Emma stood clutching the telescope. It didn’t take long for her to make her decision.

When Jim Cumberland returned a few minutes later, she’d gone. He looked at the cabinet. The telescope was missing and in its place was a note.

_‘Don’t worry. I’ll bring it back in a few days. When I said it was essential, I really, really meant it. You don’t know the good you’re doing in letting me borrow it. Thank you. And I really will bring it back. Promise. Emma Ripley.’_

Jim Cumberland shook his head ruefully and tutted. Still, he was sure she’d keep her word, although what anyone would want with a tarnished old telescope was beyond him.

\--xoOox--

Emma took the telescope to the castle that night. She was one of the few people who had access to the castle after closing on Christmas Eve. She crept in after all the visitors had gone and took herself up to what had once been the nurseries, high up overlooking Home Park, a place she’d always easily imagined Victoria and her family.

Would it be enough? She so wanted it to be, she _needed_ it to be. But she sat while the minutes ticked away; nothing happened. Despondency began to settle in and she wondered if she’d even find Melbourne again. Perhaps she’d imagined the whole thing. It wasn’t the first time she’d been accused of living in a fantasy world.

Clinging onto the telescope, she stared out a final time, willing something to happen, anything, hoping beyond hope.

‘Please, please …‘ she implored, clutching it to her.

Nothing. With a deep sigh of remorse, she stood up to leave.

Emma pressed the ends together to close the telescope, but then a tingle, just as she had felt in the museum. It seemed to spread through her, up her arms, and she almost had to drop it. But she clung to it still, staring at it in wonder. And then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Her heart dropped in disappointment and she released a long, slow breath. As her breath emerged it clouded in the air. Emma gave a sudden and involuntary shiver. The temperature had plummeted.

‘Who are you and why on earth am I back up in the nursery?’

Emma spun. Standing at the other end of the room, in full crinoline, her neck bedecked with a diamond necklace, her hair in tight looped braids, stood a woman she recognised instantly as a very young Queen Alexandrina Victoria.

Emma stood up and gaped. ‘Hello … I’m … I’m Emma.’

The Queen’s eyebrows rose. ‘Is that how you address your monarch?’

‘Sorry …’ She dipped into an awkward curtsey more out of instinct than anything. ‘Your Majesty.’

‘That’s better. One must never forget propriety, after all.’ Victoria glanced around, clearly put out. ‘Why are we up here, and why the deuce are you dressed in those breeches? Are you performing in some sort of play?’

Emma smiled to herself. ‘No, your Majesty, it’s just how I dress in this day and age.’

‘This day and age?’

‘Yes. It’s, umm, it’s 2017, Your Majesty.’

The Queen frowned, not so much with shock but bewilderment. ’20 …? But … wait, I … where exactly … this is very odd. I … shouldn’t be here. I … I shouldn’t be in this world anymore. I know that, but …’

Emma took a step towards her, fumbling for an explanation. ‘I’m sorry, Your Majesty. It’s my fault. I’ve … brought you back.’

‘Brought me back? How?’

‘You’re … you’re … a spirit, Ma’am. A ghost.’

The Queen exclaimed in shock. ‘Oh! I see. Well … How terribly exciting!’

Emma exhaled a relieved laugh. ‘I’ve brought you back for a reason.’

‘Well, I should hope there is some sensible justification for it. I was quite happy where I was … I believe …’ Her brows furrowed again as she tried to remember. ‘I can’t actually recall details … or anything, come to think of it, but I know that I was.’

‘There’s … someone else here. Someone who hasn’t been able to leave, Ma’am.’

‘Oh dear. Not that Boy Jones again? He was a damnable nuisance at times but I couldn’t help but like the little scamp.’

‘No, Ma’am, I don’t mean like that. I mean someone who hasn’t been able to find peace in the way you have.’

Emma swallowed and the seriousness of her meaning was not lost on Victoria. She grew quiet and stepped closer. ‘Who do you mean? Who hasn’t found peace?’

Emma took another pace towards her and said gently, ‘Will you follow me, Ma’am? I’d like to take you somewhere.’

Victoria frowned and clasped her hands together, then nodded.

Emma crept quietly through the darkened corridors, aware of the chill as Victoria followed behind. When she got to the place she had found him before, she hesitated and turned back. ‘Wait here a moment.’

‘Who … who is this person?’ Victoria sounded nervous. Her chest rose and fell rapidly.

‘Ma’am, please … trust me.’

Victoria pursed her lips but nodded quickly.

Emma turned the corner into the corridor where she had come across him before. It was dark and empty. She waited, hoping he would simply appear. He didn’t. She closed her eyes and a feeling of dread overcame her. What if he could no longer be summoned? What if she had gone to all this trouble for nothing?

She clutched the telescope tight in her hands again and willed him to appear. ‘William,’ she murmured. ‘William … please …’

And at that a great shiver rattled through her and she opened her eyes. She gasped as a rush of pure cold air poured into her.

There he stood, his beautiful eyes burning into her. ‘Emma. You returned.’

‘Yes.’

Melbourne stood a short way off, looking more handsome than ever. He was wearing a uniform she recognised as the court uniform, the dark blue cloth and gold braid nearly robbed her of breath. How could Victoria have resisted this man?

She smiled across at him. ‘William … Lord Melbourne … it worked.’

His brows knitted together briefly and he glanced down and noticed the object clutched in her hands.

‘The telescope,’ he said in disbelief.

‘Yes … it worked and … I found her.’ She turned to look behind her, and at that moment from around the corner walked Victoria.

The man beside her took in a great shudder of breath. For a time Victoria could only stare. Emma stepped back, desperate not to intrude.

‘Your Majesty,’ he exhaled.

Victoria’s look of shock soon melted into a perfect smile. ‘Good evening … Lord M.’

Emma took herself down the corridor, far away, but she couldn’t resist watching secretly from around the corner.

Victoria moved closer and for a while the two could only stare into each other.

‘How are you, Lord M?’

‘Well, Ma’am, I suppose I could be worse for someone dead 170 years.’

She smiled out a little laugh. ‘You look most well.’ Victoria couldn’t take her eyes from him. ‘Indeed, you look so very young and so very real.’

‘As do you, Ma’am. Just as I remember you.’

‘And you look as I remember you.’ She took a step closer and searched his eyes. ‘It has been so long, so terribly long. Why are we here, Lord M?’

‘I have never left, Ma’am.’

‘You’ve been here all this time?’

‘Yes, Ma’am.’

‘Why is that?’

He drew in a breath and attempted an explanation. ‘The girl believes that there are things between us which were unsaid … which need to be said. And things left undone, which need to be done.’

She furrowed her brows. ‘I don’t understand.’

He took a step in and looked down at her with aching tenderness. ‘Do you not?’

Victoria turned away a little, her confusion bewildering her. ‘I don’t know … perhaps … perhaps I do. It has been so long, Lord M, so very, very long.’

‘Yes … too long.’ He drew closer again.

She stared at him and her face melted into a smile once more. ‘You wear the Windsor uniform. How well it sits on you. I remember now.’

He gave a brief, embarrassed laugh. ‘It is not the most comfortable item of clothing, Ma’am.’

‘Oh, indulge me, Lord M.’

‘Always, Ma’am.’

He bestowed her with a mercurial half smile and looked into her so intensely Victoria dropped her head. She glanced about anxiously. ‘Who can see us? Anyone? I feel awfully exposed here.’

‘I only appeared to the girl. Emma, her name is.’

‘Where has she gone? Emma? Oh, do come here.’

Emma crept back around the corner. ‘I’m sorry … I didn’t want to intrude.’

Victoria approached her. ‘I confess, I feel a little vulnerable here. Perhaps we should go somewhere more private.’

‘Well … you know this castle better than me.’

‘I _did_. I daresay it has changed a fair bit.’

Emma smiled conspiratorially. ‘Oh, you’d be surprised. I work here now, I know a few of its secrets too. Come with me.’

She started off along the corridors, up staircases, around corners, until she came to a floor she knew was only ever used for state visits. She stopped at a particular door. It would do very well.

‘This one. No one will disturb you here.’

Victoria looked around with mild concern. ‘These are the rooms where we put guests and visiting dignitaries. But these were … bedchambers.’

‘Yes, Ma’am. They still are.’

Emma unlocked the door and held it open. Victoria looked into the room, high, elegant, an enormous four-poster bed stood against the far wall: it was in every way a room fit for a Queen. She turned back to her. ‘But …’

Emma stepped into the Queen and took her hands. As she clasped them she was surprised at how much life she felt in them, how warm they were. ‘Ma’am … I’m a girl of my time. I know how these things work, and as it’s technically 2017, right now, you’re a girl of this time too. You’re free. You have nothing that binds you, no husbands, no ties, you can do whatever you want, what needs to be done. It’s been too long. Make it right at last. For him … and for you. Don’t regret.’

Victoria frowned a little but held her eyes. ‘No … you are right. You are so very right. Thank you.’

Emma smiled and squeezed her hands then turned to Melbourne.

‘You see … there was a reason why you appeared to me,’ she said sincerely.

‘Emma,’ he smiled and took her hands, as warm as Victoria’s had been, strong and certain. Her belly did a little flip. Damn it, Victoria was a lucky girl. ‘Thank you.’

She turned her head up to the full force of his gaze. ‘You’re so very welcome. Now … go on.’

Emma drew her hands out of his and stepped back. Melbourne reached a hand out to Victoria. She took it and he led her into the room. Emma watched as they closed the door behind them then left as quietly as she had come.

\--xoOox--

As Victoria turned to her first Prime Minister a sudden shyness took hold. She smiled softly and a little awkwardly. ‘Well, Lord M … here we are.’

‘It would appear so, Ma’am.’

‘It has been so long … and yet … it feels like no time at all.’

‘Indeed, Ma’am. I have waited and waited so long that I almost forgot what I was waiting for. And yet now, with you here … it is as if you have never been away.’

Her shy smile melted into one of intense contentment. ‘I feel strangely as I did that first year when I came to the throne. Do you recall? We used to laugh and laugh. I never felt so content, so at one with someone else as I did with you.’

He averted his gaze. ‘Well, presumably you did later with … your husband?’

She hesitated. ‘Perhaps … but not in the same way. I never had those heady times again of easy companionship, of no expectation, no need for babies … always babies. You listened. You listened and you laughed, and that meant everything to me.’

He looked around. ‘I have been caught here for a long time, Ma’am.’

‘I am sorry.’

‘Emma thought it was because of things that were not completed between us.’

‘Perhaps she was right.’ She stepped closer and turned her head up to his. ‘Lord M … how strange it is seeing you again, how wonderful. What a dear, dear friend you were, a true companion.’

‘A friend, Ma’am?’

‘More than a friend, you know that.’

‘As do you.’

Her mouth was open and she took in little gasping breaths with the release of truth. ‘I missed you so.’

‘And I you, Ma’am. I missed you from the moment I knew I would lose you.’

She turned away slightly, as if that memory was too painful. ‘Do not speak of losing me. I never wished it to be so. But the time came when I did what I must do, what I _wanted_ to do for my future, and … I was content, but …’

He had dropped his head at her difficult words and so she came right up to him until he turned his gaze back to her. ‘… perhaps I neglected to say and do what I _needed_ to do.’

‘It was a long time ago, Ma’am.’

‘But you have crossed centuries to be with me.’

‘And … it seems as nothing, Ma’am.’

‘And therefore …’ She took his hands in hers. ‘We must not fail this time. We may never have the chance again.’

‘No, Ma’am. I don’t believe we shall.’

She lifted her hand and cupped his face, searching him out. ‘Lord M … my darling Lord M.’

‘Ma’am …’

Her voice dropped into a ribbon of soft intimacy. ‘No, call me by my name, say my name.’

He turned his eyes to her and they were damp. ‘… Victoria …’

‘Yes?’ she murmured. ‘What? What is it? Tell me. Tell me now.’

His eyes shone as he at last said what had needed to be voiced for an age: ‘I love you.’

And she smiled a smile of perfect happiness. ‘And, William … I love you. Across time, across decades and people and all that has been and done, I love you. Always.’ She clasped a hand to her heart. ‘I carried you with me, in here, until the end and beyond. I loved you and I love you still.’

‘In that case … if I may be so bold … Ma’am …’ And he bent and kissed her.

They pulled away from each other, surprised, a little startled. He smiled down.

‘I like that … so very much,’ she murmured.

‘Yes.’

‘And time is as nothing.’                                                                             

‘Indeed.’

‘Why did you never do that before?’

‘Because, Ma’am, that sort of thing doesn’t happen between Queens and their Prime Ministers.’

She sniffed out a laugh. ‘Well, Lord M, as far as I’m aware, I am no longer Queen and you are no longer Prime Minister.’

Curling her arms around his neck, Victoria pulled him down to her again.

Soon he was kissing her fuller, harder, seeking her out. She gave back and time fell away and they were as they should always have been.

‘More?’ he murmured warm against her skin.

‘More,’ she confirmed.

And they moved together, ridding themselves and each other of their clothes before falling back on the bed. And there, in a bedroom in Windsor Castle, what was started 180 years earlier was at last fulfilled.

And outside, the bells of St George’s Chapel rang out for Midnight Mass.

\--xoOox--

Emma let herself silently into the castle. It was 9 o’clock on Christmas morning and the vast corridors were empty and dark. She’d rushed to attend the service in the chapel the night before and was about to set off on the drive to her parents in Hampshire for Christmas lunch, but there was something to be done first.

She crept along silently and found his corridor. It was dark and still. Waiting, not moving, Emma tried to sense him. But only silence answered.

‘Lord Melbourne?’ she called softly. ‘William?’

There was no response.

Emma stood still and a smile of contentment settled on her face. She whispered into the emptiness, ‘Goodbye, Lord M.’

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Must confess, I couldn't stop crying after I wrote this. If you would like to leave a comment, I would love to read it. 
> 
> Happy holidays again to you all. x


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